


Aftermath

by enjoyingtheimaginary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brain Damage, Flashbacks, M/M, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 07:28:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5700034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjoyingtheimaginary/pseuds/enjoyingtheimaginary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Michael had been beautiful and terrifying; exactly all that he was promised to be. In his rightful vessel he was especially awe-inspiring. Castiel could see it more fully than Sam could." (Read more, please)</p><p>I decided to rewrite the ending of season five. This is what would have happened if Dean had said "yes" to Michael. </p><p>I'll add more tags as I go and things develop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

Michael was beautiful and terrifying; exactly all that he was promised to be. In his rightful vessel he was especially awe-inspiring. Castiel of course could see it more clearly than Sam could. He alone had the privilege of seeing the archangel in his peak: with Michael’s distinctive blue light, steadfast countenance, and indescribable wings. 

The most remarkable thing, he thought, was where the angel and the host intersected. The angel and the man separated at the torso and the intangible body of the angel stretching upwards, each wing splayed to its full extent. The two forms moved in unison, though it was the physical form that cast the blows. Though imposing and alarming, the sight was magnificent. The archangel and the vessel were blended together in seamless coordination, working in perfect unison like well oiled cogs.

Sam, however, could not see the divine perfection standing before them. His human eyes were blind to the different spectrums and dimensions he needed. Instead Sam only saw his brother with glow obscuring familiar green eyes and the same glow leaking from several gashes. 

Castiel held Sam’s arm just above the joint of his left elbow. It had initially been to keep the younger Winchester from hurtling himself towards the fight, though now it served no use; Sam had long since given up fighting and instead stood frozen. Besides the shock and fear clearly written on his face, Castiel could tell from his eyes that he was retreating inwardly. He considered this a wise decision; any result of this battle would be profound and likely devastating. 

For all his claims of noble intentions and peace between brothers, Lucifer had made the first move. A blow that had caused the most sizeable gash located on Michael’s chest. Glowing, pure Grace dripped from the wound and trickled down the hunter’s shirt, though the hunter was not aware of it. 

The archangel only granted it a passing notice before returning the attack. 

It was a bizarre and disorienting spectacle. The Devil who had terrorized them for months seemed petty and weak in contrast to Heaven's most powerful angel. 

Though Castiel knew the winner should be obvious, it did little to stave off the fear that gripped him. He supposed his newfound distrust of rationality was a symptom of his weakened, nearly human state. 

As predicted, the fight was heavily one-sided. Lucifer in his decaying vessel lacked strength comparable to Michael with his full power. 

Before long, Michael had Lucifer pinned into the dry grass. Around his body laid bits of a tombstone, it’s record now smashed beyond recognition. Michael reared back, keeping Lucifer pinned with one foot upon the other’s chest. In Michael’s right hand a sword materialized. This one far more literal than what Dean is. It bore resemblance to the blade Castiel wished he could still call forth, though it was longer and with a broader guard. 

Castiel noted the look of fearful realization on the Devil’s face in the moment just before Michael thrust the blade through his heart. 

Nearly too late, Castiel realized what was coming.

“Get down!” He yelled, grabbing Sam’s shoulders and twisting him so he laid with his head down in the dirt. 

Castiel threw himself down with the younger Winchester, who had already caught on. As he wrapped his arms around their heads, the light was already rushing towards them. 

The energy that was the existence of Lucifer dissipating rushed around them in an overwhelming shove of heat. 

Disoriented, Castiel raised his head. Sam was staring open-mouthed at the tableau in front of them, reminiscent of Guido Reni’s. 

Lucifer lay vanquished on the ground, his vessel empty and tarnished, surrounded by the carbon imprints of four massive wings, each taller than any human. 

Through he had every right to rejoice, Michael’s face betrayed nothing. Slowly his sword dematerialized and his arm relaxed at his side. For a moment, the world stood still. Michael looked upon his slain enemy and brother and did nothing. 

He then turned to where Castiel and Sam had frozen on the ground, moving his foot off the carcass with finality. The archangel’s new position revealed rapidly healing wounds and glowing eyes. 

“Nazpsad zien zonrensg.” 

Michael spoke evenly, conveying his power effortlessly, though perhaps not unintentionally. His ever-present frown softened into what may have been a smile. 

Castiel looked upon him, not daring to speak, instead choosing to silently gaze upon Michael’s dual forms. 

Then, with an upwards rush of emanating light, grace, and power, Michael ascended to Heaven once more. 

For a moment Dean remained fixed in what had been Michael’s position, swaying slightly with unfocused eyes. Then, suddenly, he dropped to his knees. After a moment his body could not maintain even that and he fell like a ragdoll to his right, body falling closely to that which Lucifer once inhabited. 

“Dean!” Sam screamed, breaking the Castiel’s spell of surreal disbelief. 

Within seconds Sam has pulled his brother’s limp body into his arms, scrambling over Lucifer’s discarded vessel to do so. 

Castiel approached them carefully, choosing to step around his brother's body. With the entirety of his being, Castiel wished that he didn’t know what was coming. 

As he draws closer, he sees the confirmation in Dean’s glazed unfocused eyes and quaking muscles.

He crouched on Dean’s other side, opposite of Sam kneeling. 

“Dean,” he said softly, “can you hear me?”

Dean apparently could hear him. His eyes, while still unfocused, rise to take in Castiel. Dean jerked as though he had been electrocuted, suddenly shoving weakly at both of them, scrambling out of Sam’s arms gracelessly. 

He continued to crawl backwards clumsily until his back hit a tombstone. His wide eyes went ever wider. Dean feverishly attempted to push farther back into the stone, boots displacing clusters of grass and dirt. His head whipped around wildly, taking in things that humans can’t see. Finally stilling, his legs came up to meet his torso and his arms wrapped tightly around them. He buried his forehead in the gap of his knees. 

Castiel made his way towards his trembling friend. Dean jerked when Castiel placed a hand of his shoulder, but then was still. Castiel guided his slumped body to the ground. Dean’s face is lax and calm now, in his angel-induced stupor, though reality reflected in the man’s shimmering tear tracks. 

Castiel leaned heavily on the headstone. His head was heavy and his limbs were sore after pulling on power he didn’t have to give.

“What did he say?” Sam yelled at him. Castiel glanced at Dean’s huddled, but thankfully still body. His eyes had grown very heavy. Blackness was beginning to edge into his vision. 

“Cas! What did Michael say? Tell me!” Sam yelled again with more anger and frustration sinking into his voice with his growing impatience. 

“He said, ‘A sword of my hand delivered you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever look at words long enough that it make you think they aren't real? Because that's what writing this was like. Please tell me if you like it because if there's interest I'm willing to continue this. Creative criticism and pointing out any errors is always appreciated. Also: how do people come up with names for things? That was a horrible experience. If you have something better, please tell me.


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